Young Teacher, the Subject of School Boy Fantasies
by pixiewayro
Summary: Andrea starts her first ever teaching job. She's nervous enough about it, as it is. Then enters Gerard Arthur Way...


"Fuck," I mutter under my breath, quickly clamping my eyes shut again. I'm not ready for this. I'm so not fucking ready for this. The groan escaping my lips seems to be ripped from somewhere deep within my soul. The luxury to wallow a bit longer evades me, as my phone buzzes on my nightstand, alerting a call.

"Hey," I croak, cringing at how rough my voice sounds.

"Morning, babe," Max chirps. How dare he sound so cheerful?! It's way too early in the morning for that, and he's not here to hold me in his strong arms while I moan and stress loudly and incessantly over the hell I'm about to go through. "You ready for today?"

Turning on my side, opening my eyes, finally submitting to the inevitable truth that I can't escape this much longer, my gaze lands on the picture of the two of us on my nightstand. In my opinion, it's the most perfect picture ever taken. It captures so much of the love we share, as we're about a second away from sharing one of the sweetest kisses that had ever passed between us. It was at his little sister, Kelly's, birthday party – about eight months ago. Kelly had been sneaking around the house, taking unsuspecting pictures of all the guests. Later, after the party, I had received an email from her, with the picture attached, reading: 'This is love xo'. I printed it out and framed it the very next day.

The smile tugging at my lips makes it nearly impossible for me to feel nervous about my first day of teaching – and completely impossible to be annoyed at Max for not being here for this.

"As ready as I'll ever be, I guess," I murmur. "I just wish you were here, stud."

Even over the phone, I can sense that his expression had changed. His whole demeanour had shifted at my admission. I know he feels guilty for being away so often, for missing out on some key experiences – like my first teaching job –, but he knows I don't resent him for it.

"I know, Andie," the small sigh is audible in his words. I can picture his kicked puppy expression, his blue eyes pleading for love and understanding, easily – I had witnessed it often enough by this point. "Only two more weeks, sugar."

"Yeah," I sigh, feeling myself finally tip over the edge, as the tears which I'd been trying to ignore build up and spill over, gliding gracefully down my cheeks. I wipe them quickly, forcing myself to be stronger and more composed. "I'm sorry," I whisper, "I just really miss you, stud, now I'm being a total baby."

"Oh, Andie," he coos, and I can hear the smile, picture it perfectly in my mind, "I miss you too, babe."

Hearing those words brings a smile to my own face, albeit still a weak one. I wish I could keep him on the phone for the rest of the day, talking about anything and everything, even possibly engaging in some dirty talk, but I need to head back to reality. I don't want to be late, especially not on my very first day.

"I have to get ready now," I inform him regretfully. "I'll text you later from school when I have a moment?" I say, the words coming out more like a question.

"Sure, sugar. Good luck today. I know it'll be great. And just remember, I'm over here thinking about you."

"Thank you," my smile grows considerably, as my heart clenches with the need to hold and love this wonderful man I get to call my own. "I love you, stud."

"I love you too, babe."

With my mood lifted considerably, I'm able to rip myself from the bed's comfort, heading straight to the kitchen for a coffee before my shower. I drink my coffee, sweet and strong, out of Max's favourite black mug, before taking a few minutes longer than usual in the shower. I allow the sweet vanilla scent of my shower gel to calm me down a bit, accompanied by the steam surrounding me.

After my shower, I force myself to eat at least half a blueberry muffin, before brushing my teeth and getting dressed. Even though I'm still quite nervous for what the day might hold, I'm beginning to feel slightly more confident that I'd be able to push through this.

Hell, if I can push through my father leaving my mother for another man, I can quite possibly handle anything fate might throw my way. Even though Carl is the nicest guy you'd ever meet, and he and my dad love each other very much, it wasn't exactly a picnic.

Divorce is ugly in itself, only much worse when accompanied by the suicide of the wife being left for someone else – someone she'd never be able to be.

I think that was the moment I decided never to marry. I know it frustrates Max to no end – especially since he'd proposed once already, and I'd told him that I wasn't ready to take such a step quite yet. He was understanding, obviously, even though he'd been badly hurt about it – quite understandably, so. We've fought about it on numerous occasions, some more colourful than others, but the make-up session afterwards always seem to make those arguments seem less important. I know I won't really be able to hold Max on this thread forever, especially with him being away so often (and the toll it takes on our relationship), but I had gotten away with it easily enough up until now. Now that I'm finally starting my first teaching job, however, I fear I won't be as lucky for very much longer. This feels too much like settling down. After moving in together, about a year ago, knowing Max, this will probably be the next step he'll want to insist on taking, anyway. I try to shake the feeling, for the time being, and rather set my sights on the mirror in front of me.

Checking over my reflection, I'm taken slightly aback by the familiar realisation of exactly how much I look like my mother. I don't exactly mind it. She was a very beautiful woman – soft, brown curls; full lips; sparkling, green eyes; slender frame; flawless skin. No, I don't mind looking like her at all, even though her beauty seemed more amplified than my own. I just really wish she could still be here. Wish she could see it. Could see me.

With a sigh, I complete my make-up. I don't apply too much, just a slight touch of shadow to my eyes, some eyeliner, and the berry lip gloss Max likes so much.

I inspect my outfit: simple black skirt, lilac blouse, and my new silver high-heeled sandals. I complete the look with the delicate silver jewellery set Max had given me on my birthday (I feel my cheeks faintly flush at the memory of him successfully coaxing me out of all of my clothes before gently dressing me in the earrings, necklace and bracelet. It was one of the sweetest, sexiest moments that had ever simmered between us).

Satisfied with my appearance, I pull myself back from my seriously wandering thoughts, forcing myself to focus on nothing but getting through this first day.

The trip to the school doesn't really take that long. Soon I find myself parked at the teacher's parking lot of Belleville High School. Thankfully, I still have time to get my bearings before the day officially starts.

"This is it," I murmur under my breath, exiting and locking my car, making my way to the building before me. I hope I can do this.


End file.
